


Echoes Down The Line

by WhoopsOK



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sense8 (TV) Fusion, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff and Humor, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Psychic Bond, Semi-Public Sex, Sensate Cluster(s), Sex Is Fun, Sorta depends on if psychic sex counts as public
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 04:23:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14686401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoopsOK/pseuds/WhoopsOK
Summary: At her surprised smirk, Adam clears his throat, his blush kicking up a notch. “You can see,” he mutters and with that, Ronan’s phone is in Blue’s hand, the heat multiplying between the three of them so sharply Gansey shows up.“You cannot, right now,” he says over her shoulder, sitting in a packed lecture hall between his roommate and a senator’s daughter whose name is abruptly embarrassingly unimportant.(Sensate AU in which Adam sends a dirty picture that sets them all off.)





	Echoes Down The Line

**Author's Note:**

> Ok! So! I have this messy little .txt document on my desktop that’s got thousands of words worth of half-formed plot bunnies that haven’t graduated to having their own .doc’s yet. I was actually looking for something else when I found this little gem and realized it wouldn’t take much to polish it.
> 
> All to say: Here’s the sense8 AU id fic nobody wanted but is getting anyway.

The distance between them wound up being a lot less daunting than Blue had anticipated it being.

Going to colleges in three separate states, leaving only Blue and Ronan together in Henrietta had sounded _soul sucking_ after all they’d been through. The space Gansey and Adam would leave behind had felt _giant_ in concept, but now that it’s here, she finds it easier to breathe around than she’d braced for.

That’s the thing about being soulmates, she guesses. The magic between them doesn’t thin with distance. If she wants, she can turn into her own head, find them all right there, their hearts pressed right up against hers.

Some of these moments are lonely or hurt, their souls calling out for each other before they can reach for their phones, _I’m here, I’m here._ But many are just benign; just the four of them getting used to the idea of being _not quite humans_ in yet another way, of being _together_ in yet another way. More and more of these moments are becoming comfortable, their familiarity welcome and soothing.

Occasionally, though, these moments spark off something a little warmer.

Blue doesn’t know why she and Ronan sync up the most, but when she’s sitting on her bed—trying to focus on her ill-advised _three_ summer classes—and feels something hot flash down her chest and twist in her stomach, she blinks and she’s sitting beside him.

Ronan instinctively moves his phone out of her line of sight, pure reflex, but catches himself halfway through the pointless motion. Blue already knows what’s on it; that feeling in his chest is very unique to a specific person of their mutual acquaintance.

Right on cue, she’s sitting on a workbench outside the bathroom at the auto shop where Adam works between classes. There’s a blush settled into his cheeks that _could_ pass for exertion, but for how she could feel his heartbeat rabbiting in her chest as he walks past.

At her surprised smirk, he clears his throat, his blush kicking up a notch. “You can see,” he mutters and with that, Ronan’s phone is in Blue’s hand, the heat multiplying between the three of them so sharply Gansey shows up.

“You _cannot_ , right now,” he says over her shoulder, sitting in a packed lecture hall between his roommate and a senator’s daughter whose name is abruptly embarrassingly unimportant. It’s a profound effort to keep the shocked arousal off his face when he sees so much of Adam’s skin—sweat slick and flush, _half hard_ —on Ronan’s phone.

“Can’t we?” Ronan says and his level of contrary-for-the-sake-of-being-contrary is a lot easier to understand from the inside. He’s not _trying_ to be difficult, it comes as naturally as breathing.

Leaning over the back of Gansey’s chair, he lets his breath ghost against Gansey’s neck, Blue sucking in the hiss that Gansey suppresses. Ronan looks up at the professor blandly, “Not like they can see us.”

“ _Obviously_ , but I can feel—”

Ronan’s teeth scrape the hinge of Gansey’s jaw and Adam nearly drops a socket wrench on his foot when the feeling hits him.

Blue puts herself between Adam in the car he was about to start working on. “Not safe for work,” she smiles, when Ronan is suddenly behind him, kissing the sweat off his neck. She feels a little like a pinup girl, which makes her laugh as she slides back onto the hood, spreading her legs and tugging Adam between them.

She watches Gansey’s mouth fall open when she straddles his lap at the same time, blocking his view of the presentation he was barely paying attention to anyway. “Say no,” she says, cupping his face close enough that her breath is on his mouth, but his hands are already stroking up her thighs.

Gansey’s desire is a different sort of light in Blue’s stomach, but still just as familiar, if not more so, than Ronan’s or Adam’s. He licks his lips and does not say no. “I’m not quite sure I can keep quiet under you, Jane.”

Ronan chuckles against his throat. “Let her worry about that.”

Gansey turns to him blearily. “Pardon?” but then Blue’s mouth is on his, smothering any other sounds.

“You two are the worst,” Adam says into Blue’s mouth, his heart tripping in the sweet way it always does when he touches her. His fingers edge carefully under the end of her skirt. “You rubbed off on each other.”

“Only once,” Blue whispers back and the hot streak in Adam’s gut makes her head spin. She turns him around to face Ronan, her arms wrapped around his chest.

“ _What?_ When?” Gansey says.

Blue just laughs, but then Ronan presses forward, rolls his hips into Adam’s and it turns into a wanting groan. She falls back into her bedroom for a moment, Ronan’s hand clamped over her mouth.

“You have to keep quiet, too, maggot,” he whispers, hard and heavy over her.

She bites his palm until he lets go. “What do _you_ care about alarming the masses?”

And, well, he doesn’t, but he knows she does. She’s a courteous housemate and _Does Not_ want to have another sex talk with the women of 300 Fox Way. He’ll get on board with that, because the last time he got roped into that conversation it made all of them want to _die_. So, yeah, yeah, she’ll be quiet, even though it’s annoying that he’s the one that remembered for her.

Blue and Ronan don’t often kiss each other, but Ronan biting her jaw is a familiar burst of affectionate pain before they get back to the task at hand.

Adam has one hand craned back to hold her head, her mouth on his neck, as Ronan kisses him, rocks their arousals together.

Gansey’s hands are hard on her thighs as she unzips his pants.

“Wait—wait, is this real? Am I—?” Gansey knows good and well she would never really open his pants in a full room, but she lets him take a minute to look at the real world anyway before shoving his pants out of the way and taking him in hand.

“Wait,” Adam says, but is writhing between them like he can’t stop. “The bathroom—”

“You’d rather smell piss than motor oil?” Blue mumbles against his shoulder, reaching into his suit to roll his nipples making him choke out a wordless sound of encouragement. She looks around the garage, aware of the owner yelling in the other room. “It’s your lunch hour, nobody’s coming in.”

In her room, she curls her fingers into herself, gasping when they turn into Adam’s fingers, calloused and trembling. She turns to look at him, his mouth half open as he watches his fingers disappear into her cunt. He looks struck when he returns her gaze and they both groan when that makes her clench.

“We can be quick,” she whispers, mentally pushing her panties out of the way, nothing between her and Gansey’s aching arousal.

“Greedy,” Ronan breathes against her cheek before he turns to kiss Gansey’s mouth with her.

Gansey turns to him, gets a biting kiss for his troubles. “If any of us are particularly prone to indulgences—” he starts, but then Blue is sinking down on him and in the real world he presses his palms down on the desk, crosses his ankles, not trusting himself to be still. “ _Blue_ ,” he gasps.

“Yeah?” she replies tightly, slowly settling herself in his lap with the bleary thought that he has her _favorite_ dick, holy _shit_.

“He _would_ be your favorite Dick,” Ronan snorts, disrupting the mind-numbing burst of arousal that had overtaken Gansey.

Adam laughs against her shoulder in her bedroom, presses his palm down against her clit, making her buck even as she snickers breathlessly.

Gansey is suddenly kneeling over Ronan where he’s sitting against the wall at the barns, beautifully flushed even with his eyebrow raised in challenge at Gansey’s glare.

“ _You_ are my _least_ favorite asshole,” Gansey tells him emphatically, but it just makes a filthy smirk twist across Ronan’s mouth. Still, there’s something gratifying about the way his breath stutters, hand clamping hard on Gansey’s waist when Gansey rolls his hips down on him.

“That’s ok,” Adam cuts in evenly, watching from beside them with unabashed lust all over his face. In the garage, his hands are fumbling to open the front of Ronan’s pants. “I got dibs on this asshole, anyway.”

Blue is actively cackling now, which is a weirdly pleasant sensation with Adam’s fingers—Gansey’s cock inside her.

“I’ll have you know, I hate you all,” Gansey says, but then he’s kissing them, in Ronan’s iron grip, with Blue in his lap, propped up against the car and turning Adam to face him.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Ronan mutters emphatically as he grips his and Adam’s arousals in his hand, jacking slowly with his head resting on Adam’s shoulder.

“Please,” Adam gasps against Gansey’s lips, but isn’t talking to any particular one of them. He’s leaking all over Ronan as Blue scrapes her teeth along the sensitive spot behind his ear.

“ _Please_ ,” Blue echoes, talking to all of them, lifting and lowering herself with intent that makes Gansey’s mouth drop open against hers. Ronan’s hand strokes reverently through her hair as he watches Gansey’s face.

And Gansey can’t help it, he _can’t_ , okay? He’s always so controlled and put-together, he knows how to be _That_ , but he doesn’t have to with them, they make him, they _break_ him and in the real world, even biting his knuckle bloody doesn’t keep his breath from punching out of his chest when he comes, and oh, _oh_ , it echoes.

He’s Blue writhing and arching up off her bed, coming apart under Adam’s palm as he strokes his fingers inside her, Ronan’s hand back over her mouth as he pants against her ear because—

He’s Ronan with his heels digging into the dirt, cursing lowly, his head _thunking_ soundly back against the wall of the barns as Gansey groans against his throat, hips jerking frantically—

He’s Adam with his mouth stretched wide and his head tossed back over Blue’s shoulder, gripping her thigh, gripping Ronan’s wrist as he spills over Ronan’s fist and _cock_ and—

All their orgasms slam into him at once and it’s good, _it’s good, it’s so fucking—_

Then he’s lying there, gasping, in Blue’s body as she coughs noisily in his. The confusion at that is only momentary, before his face flares as he realizes she’s saving him from the _surely_ immodest sound that had been about to burst out of his mouth.

Ronan is standing there, pants open and shameless, still half stroking himself as Gansey draws a breath, takes his body back to continue coughing. The senator’s daughter— _whose name still escapes him_ —concernedly pushes his water into his hand as his roommate pats his back. “You good, G?”

“Sorry,” he wheezes, takes a sip that does nothing to cool his face with three orgasm-drunk _menaces to society_ laughing in his head. “Allergies, the ragweed has been horrid this year.”

“ _Simply dreadful, I say_ ,” Ronan mocks, Blue shivering with giggly aftershocks of pleasure where she’s leaning against his shoulder. Even Adam is chuckling, slumped back against the hood of the car, fighting to level his breathing.

Gansey knows they can feel the embarrassed flutter in his stomach, makes an effort to look disapproving of their mirth. It doesn’t work, of course, but he hadn’t really expected it to.

They can feel his amused love for them echoing over everything else.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading…you’ve got magic in your veins; wield it!


End file.
